Little Lion

My lover spoke and said to me, "Arise, my darling,  my beautiful one, and come with me. See! The winter is past; the rains are over and gone. Flowers appear on the earth; the season of singing has come, the cooing of doves is heard in our land. The fig tree forms its early fruit; the blossoming vines spread their fragrance. Arise, come, my darling; my beautiful one, come with me." Song of Solomon 2:10-13 I read this tonight, out loud to my husband. We were giggling over the apparent brazenness of Song of Solomon (I swear, we really are grown ups) and the many references to "gazelles" and "pillars" and "fruits", when this passage suddenly caught my attention and brought my giggle fits to a halt. It was one of those moments when the spaghetti noodles in my brain decided to connect, end to end making a perfect linear link, rather than the usual slippery disconnects and overlaps. I'll start at the beginning.

I have unwittingly discovered a few things about myself this past weekend: 1. I am claustrophobic 2. I married into a wonderfully eccentric family 3. I don't like being uncomfortable 4. I can move forward, even in the midst of some pretty major fall-aparts Let me explain these discoveries. This past weekend Dustin and I went on an adventure with the Mahlers. My father-in-law decided we were going to live it up in Leavenworth the Clark Griswold way (circa, National Lampoon's Christmas Vacation). He rented an RV, complete with shameless company advertizing stamped all over it (there was no need to question exactly who we rented it from) and a gypsy caravan of neighbors and friends to enjoy the weekend with us. Now, my Father-In-law goes nowhere without all of the major essentials for luxury, including enough gourmet food to feed an army, party lights, extra t.p., music for every venue, beer glasses, your wine glasses, plastic cups for everyday use, and a couple of steins

You know those moments when sorrow and joy collide with such force, you can't tell if you want to cry or laugh? Some of us talented folks can do both. Friday evening was a test of my body's ability to physically exude both emotions without implosion or explosion. It was a feat worthy of note, hence this blog posting.  It started with a show, or a concert more like, where my husband's band was the opening act. Late Night Transit (husband's band) was up and getting started and I was helping the drummer's wife corral their three beautiful daughters into seats where we could all see our men in action. As soon as the music started, the youngest daughter (she's 2) got up and started dancing as if her feet couldn't touch the floor fast enough. She hopped and flailed her arms and shook her mini rump as fast as her little body could get the actions out. In the middle of all of her unabashed dancing, she would stop and laugh with such wild joy that I couldn'

No. It's not spring, we are still in the midst of summer and what a summer it has be en. The weather has actually continued to be sunny and mild (thank you Lord!) and trips to the pool have been at a maximum. I've gained new freckles along with new perspective and my world seems the brighter for it. Each day brings a unique experience, I know I'm not alone in this revelation, it's called "life". There is a beauty to experiencing hardship and loss in that your own personal world slows down to a snails pace and your eyes are open to the simple things that make up everyday. I am reminded to slow down and breathe, to lay back and let my Father do the work of orchestrating my life. I can't see my future, but He has each step laid out before me, and He has done this because He loves me. "Because he loves me," says the Lord, "I will rescue him; I will protect him, for he acknowledges my name. He will call on me, and I will answer him; I will

Today I took on the task of cleaning what was supposed to be my Edy's room. But my Edy isn't here to fill up this room with her presence. This is a little more heart breaking than I thought it would be. That's the not so funny thing about grief. It's sneaky and it lies in wait like the proverbial prankster ready to leap from behind a hidden corner and shout, "Boo!" giving me, the griever, a bit of a shock. I sat in a chair and looked at this room and remembered how much Dustin hated painting it. That's how much he loves me and how much he loves his daughter. He was willing to paint this room whatever color I wanted so Edy could have a beautiful room to grow in. There are alot of dreams that I am sorrowing the loss of. Dreams where I would get to hold my little girl, feed her, cuddle her, get exhausted by her, watch her smile for the first time, watch her eyes begin to recognize that I am Mommy and Dustin is Daddy. I wanted that more than I was willing to